His fists balled tighter, making his arms ramrod straight, his body trembling as he fought to stay in control.
I glanced at Autumn and saw her motherly sadness, too. It was all subtle glances, unspoken words, and a certain kind of grief that was letting everyone in the room know that one false move and the fragility of it all would come smashing down on the floor like a China plate.
Ayda stood from the bed, relinquishing her spot to Sutton who seemed to collapse there rather than sit. He and Sloane watched one another with cautious eyes only for another second before she threw herself into his arms with another sob of complete fragility. Ayda’s eyes met mine for only a second, the sadness easy to read.
Taking the offered hand, Ayda stepped closer and pressed herself against my chest, a small shaky breath falling from her lips as she nodded to the hall beyond the door. We left the others in the room, Sloane still in her father’s lap looking years younger than sixteen.
The moment we were alone, Ayda stepped back, her hands on my ribs as she caught my eyes. “Whoever did this, Drew, she’s protecting them.”
“I know.” I sighed heavily. “Have you spoken to Tate about any of this? Maybe he could give us some clues intowho the assholes are at Babylon High.”
“He’s not home yet.” Ayda squeezed her eyes shut tight, swallowing the emotion that was still trying to escape in this mess. “He’s going to take this badly, too. I don’t understand how this could have happened in school, Drew. They’re supposed to be safe there.”
“High school wasn’t that long ago for you. Don’t pretend like it wasn’t the craziest fucking time of your life. No place scarier than those halls. No place. All those hormones. All those decisions to make. All those disasters waiting to happen…”
Dropping her hands, Ayda stepped back and pressed her back against the wall. Her fingers pushed through her blonde locks as she looked for some strength in the ceiling above her. “You’re right. It just never seems that bad when you’re living it. Then shit like this happens, and you start to wonder.” Tugging on her hair, she shook her head as though dismissing the thoughts, and dug into her pockets for her phone. “What do we do now?”
I scowled as she pulled out her phone. “We wait.” I took a step closer toward her, reaching out to place my hand on top of hers and her cell. “We make no plans. We let Sutton talk to his daughter, then we decide whether there’s a fucking scary ass tornado coming out of that door when he leaves, or one of those weird, slow-burning tsunamis. We bide our time. We deal with what’s put in front of us, Ayda.” My voice was a whisper. “Nothing more. Nothing less. Not yet.”
Nodding slowly in agreement, she stared down at our joined hands and built her resolve back up until her shoulders rolled and her chin stuck stubbornly forward. “You’re getting good at putting out fires, Mr. Tucker. Almost as good as youare at starting them.”
This time a small smile graced her lips, despite the situation.
“What about the twins?”
I reached up to push a stray hair behind her ear. “First of all, I never really start fires. They just seem to spread quicker when I’m around.” I smirked, locking eyes with her. “Second of all, I have too many reasons to react first and think later. My family isn’t simply built of men and muscle anymore. It’s got a bit more heart to it. A little bit of tenderness, too.” I winked. “And there are kids involved. As far as I know, the twins will be in daycare if Sutton was working when I called him. I can get one of the boys to bring them here if you think that’s best…”
“Maybe it’s just better to leave them for now. Stick to their routine. If Howard wants us to get them, I’ll go. Maybe for now it’s best that Sloane has his attention.” She shook her head again and smiled sadly up at me. “I’m just trying to think straight. I can’t even remember where I’m supposed to be right now. Deeks is with Kenny. Autumn and Sutton are with Sloane… Tate is… I should call Tate.”
“Take a minute,” I breathed down on her, stepping even closer, pressing my hand to her cheek. “Take a goddamn minute for yourself. Sloane is like a younger sister to you. It’s okay to feel like shit. We’ll deal with Tate when he gets back. Not before.”
“I’m good, just worried. You’re right about Tate. We can talk face to face when he gets back.” Glancing up at me, she placed her hand over my chest and raised her eyebrows. “You had a chance to talk to Slater?”
“No. I’ve let him brood for a while. He’s no doubt pacingsomewhere with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, calling me every name he can create in that warped mind of his.” I dragged my free hand down my face, keeping my eyes closed as I spoke. “I need to talk to him, though. He’s right. I’d have reacted the same way he did if shit had been the other way around. I can’t keep pulling this crap and expecting everyone to just accept it.” I dropped my hand and opened my tired eyes. “I promised Pete I was gonna try to change. The doing is harder than the saying, apparently.”
“It was extenuating circumstances. I understand where he’s coming from here. I know they all worry with the current climate and uncertainty. We all worry. The timing was just unfortunate.” She fisted my shirt and released it with another sigh. “How about I make some food for everyone and hold things down here while you go and talk to Slate? He’ll only stew the longer you put it off. I’m pretty sure Sutton’s not going anywhere. Not for a while, at least.”
“Ayda, when will you listen to me for once? I said take a minute, not go and make a banquet for a hundred men. Go and do something for you. Take a shower. Go to the training room. Check out some gold. Drool over some of the cars we’ve brought in. I don’t give a shit, but I swear, if I see you making sandwiches and sweating it up in the kitchen, you’ll need to be worrying about what I do toyoumore than what I’m about to say to Slate.”
“The only thing I want to do is the same the rest of you want to do and are managing to resist. I’ll go and help Harry in the pawnshop, though. I like looking at some of the crap you get in there. I guess it will distract me.”
I stepped back, trying to look appalled. “Crap? We don’t take in crap!”
“Oh, baby.” She patted my chest with her palm and cracked a smile. “Some of it is absolute trash. I’m pretty sure one of your boys has a marshmallow heart and accepts crap to help the Babylonians.”
Holding both hands in the air, I stepped away from her completely. “Are you… are you even in the right place? Marshmallow hearts? In my Hut? In my club? We’re Hounds,” I assured her, trying not to crack a smile. “We foam at the mouth, howl at the moon, and rip people apart with our bare teeth. Be gone with your marshmallow heart talk, woman. Go on. Go. Get out of here.”
The look she gave me made her blue eyes flare to life, dimming some of the sadness and worry that had accumulated there. Rolling her eyes dramatically, she finally allowed her smile to break free as she pressed her lips against mine and started backing away toward the bar.
“You’re a bunch of heathens and I love you for it.” She smiled again, kissed her fingertips and blew it at me. “Call me if you need me. I love you.”
“And that kind of talk doesn’t fit around here either,” I called to her, mouthing a silentI love you,back at her before she disappeared out of sight… leaving me to go and deal with the other love of my life:
Goddamn Slater Portman.
I found him in the repo lot, sitting in the driver’s seat of a 1968 electric pink Ford Mustang we’d recently repossessed from one of the guys in the mayor’s office who’d gotten himself into way too much gambling debt. The white roof wasup and Slater’s head had to be pressing against it. A vintage car it may have been, but it sure wasn’t made to hold a giant.
His arm rested on the open window ledge, a bottle of whiskey hanging from his limp fingertips as he stared forward, out through the chain links of the yard like a man possessed.
